


Secrets, Secrets, Santa

by GeneratorCat



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Booty Calls, M/M, Reunions, Santa costumes, Sexual Frustration, and wants to protect him, but no reunion sex, but not really, elf dresses, everyone loves Jason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 10:37:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8976268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeneratorCat/pseuds/GeneratorCat
Summary: It’s a twenty-three minute drive from the airport to Tim’s apartment. Jason bets he can make it in less than nineteen.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [k_rowe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/k_rowe/gifts).



> Written for krowesandrobins who prompted: 1) “Debrief” is code for “Booty Call” 2) Reunion 3) Bullets, with the request: Jason has the white streak and their relationship is a secret from the family. 
> 
> This started out really silly and then I didn't have a plot but I just kept writing and then Feelings happened, and somehow a plot formed at the very end. I got lucky. But I got all of the prompts into it, and I'm happy with how it ended up. 
> 
> Many hugs and kisses to ladelle and cinnamonskull who helped with this, and I have to credit the Gotham City Novelties and Collectibles to cinnamonskull because she is brilliant and hilarious. 
> 
> And now that this is finally finished, I can start working on 1992 again! 
> 
> Okay go read, I hope you like it :)

Jason reads the text. Again.

_Come over as soon as you get back. I need to debrief you on our next case._

He smiles and tucks the phone away, shoves on his helmet and revs the engine of his bike which roars for him beautifully. He takes off, flying down the streets of Gotham, weaving through traffic.

It’s a twenty-three minute drive from the airport to Tim’s apartment.

Jason bets he can make it in less than nineteen.

~

“Took you long enough,” Tim greets at the door seventeen minutes later.

Jason steps past him, stripping off his jacket. “Actually it took me less than what should be humanly possible, but okay.”

“You were away too long,” Tim says as he shuts the door. Locks it. “We don’t have much time.”

“No we don’t,” Jason agrees eagerly, slipping out of his boots and pulling his shirt over his head.

“We have to talk about this case.”

“Yeah, yeah, the case.” Jason grins, pulls Tim against him and runs his hands anywhere he can reach. “Fuck, I’m never leaving again, I swear.”

Tim shoots him an annoyed look, but it’s weak and he’s fighting back a smile while he does it. And he lets Jason stay there, so maybe he wants to be held just as much as Jason wants to hold him. “That might get tricky, since you’re the one that’s fluent in Russian and Spanish. If I tried to go on your last mission, I would have been made in a second.”

“I could teach you,” Jason mumbles against Tim’s lips. “It wouldn’t take very long; you’re good with your mouth.”

“Then I would be gone, and you’d still be without me.”

“You’re right, bad plan. How’s about we both stay right here forever?” Jason says, and then he kisses Tim, finally.

After a second, Tim melts into it; he’s warm and sweet, and it’s the most content Jason has been for over a week. Since the last time they kissed, right before Jason left for Panama.

Tim pulls away, blinking slowly. “We really… need to...”

“Yes, we really do,” Jason groans. He picks Tim up by the thighs so that he has to wrap his legs around Jason’s waist and carries him toward the bedroom.

“That’s not what I-” Tim’s words cut off when Jason starts to kiss at his neck, starts to squeeze the backs of his legs and ass.

Jason asks, “What was that?” as he deposits Tim on the bed and crawls over him, tugging his sweatpants down as he goes.

“Um. I need...”

“Tell me what you need, baby,” Jason says, touching the line of Tim’s cock through his boxers, and Jason just wants to shove his face right into it. So he does.

Tim gasps and blurts out, “I need you to be Santa.”

“Mm, yeah, I’ll be Santa for you- wait.” Raising his head an inch, Jason looks up at Tim, who’s flushed and panting and biting his lip. “What?”

“Santa Claus.”

“Uh… okay.” Jason’s a little thrown by the request, but hey, if Tim wants him to be Santa Claus, he’ll fucking be Santa Claus. “Do you have, like, a suit?”

Tim nods. “And an elf outfit for me.”

Jason stares for a minute. It’s not like this a problem or anything, it’s just that they usually talk about stuff beforehand, and he’s never heard anything about Tim wanting this particular fantasy. And, he kind of just wants to take care of Tim, _right now_.

“Can we wait on that?” Jason asks. “Just, let me suck you off real quick and then we can whip out whatever outfits you want and we’ll take our time with it.”

Now it’s Tim staring, frowning down at Jason.

And then he laughs.

“Oh, my gosh,” he gasps through his giggles, “you are so sweet.”

“Thanks?”

“That’s not what I meant though.”

Jason sits up, kneeling between Tim’s legs. His fingers rub the soft hair on his thighs. “What’s not what you meant?”

“I don’t want-” Tim breathes deep, schools his features though there’s still a bit of a grin breaking though, “I’m not asking you to fuck me in a Santa suit.”

“But you said-”

“I need you to be Santa Claus for a case,” Tim explains. “We’re going undercover at a mall.”

“Undercover,” Jason echos.

“Yeah. And I’ll be the helper elf. At the photo thing, you know? Where the kids sit on Santa’s lap?”

“Fucking hell,” Jason sighs. “Really? That’s how you ask that? When I’ve got my face on your dick?”

Tim laughs again. “I told you I needed to debrief you about our next case.”

“I thought that was code!”

“For what, a booty call?”

“Yes!”

“That’s not the secret phrase though.”

Jason shrugs. “I thought maybe you changed it because someone was getting close to figuring it out.”

“I’d tell you if I did,” Tim says, rolling his eyes.

“Fine.” Jason laughs a little at the past few minutes. Then he looks at Tim, still spread out for him. “Okay, I’ll be Santa Claus _for the case_. There, we talked about it. Can I get you off now?”

Tim smiles. “You sure you don’t want me to go put on the elf dress first?”

“Maybe later,” Jason says, rucking up Tim’s shirt. “Wait, it’s a dress?”

“It is.” Tim knocks Jason’s hands away and sits up. “But I was serious, we don’t have much time.”

Jason watches Tim’s pale skin disappear as he pulls his shirt back down. “But- but we’re already here.”

“But we need to be at the mall, ready to work, in an hour and a half. And we have to do makeup and everything first.”

“I can make it so fast, honey, I promise.”

Tim shoots him a flat look.

“Four minutes, tops,” Jason tries.

“As lovely and romantic as that sounds,” Tim says, “we really have to get to work.”

He stands, and Jason topples over, lands face-first onto the sheets. He stays there and releases a whine into the fabric.

Tim gives him a pat on the ass and walks over to the closet. Pulls out a big, padded fake belly.

“Come on, Santa. Faster we get it done, the faster we can pick up where we left off.”

Jason jumps off the bed.

~

“Ho, ho, ho!” Jason booms (but not too loudly because, as he learned in a very unfortunate incident that ended in tears from everyone involved, if he’s too loud he’ll scare the children).

A little boy runs and pounces onto Jason’s lap, his bony, knobby elbow driving the air from Jason’s lungs. Jason keeps his smile in place though. “And what’s your name?” he asks in his best friendly old man voice that he practiced the whole time they were getting ready.

“Sammy!” the kid shouts at him, even though his face is only a few inches away from Jason’s. Jason manages not to flinch back this time.

“Hello, Sammy!” He tries his best to match the boy’s enthusiasm level, but he’s exhausted. And it’s only been two hours. “Have you been good this year?”

“Yes!” Sammy shrieks, bouncing excitedly.

“Well, good, then what would you like for Christmas?”

“A puppy!”

The woman that came with Sammy- his mother, presumably- has been holding a conversation with Tim about the pricing for the commemorative photograph, but when she hears that her attention swings over to them, eyes wide with panic. Jason catches her gaze and she shakes her head subtly, but frantic.

Jason sighs.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t deliver live animals. It’s dangerous to have them in the sleigh, you understand.”

Sammy frowns. “Jake Margolis got a puppy last year.”

Shit.

“Well… The rules have changed since last year. There was some legislature passed, the man would be all over my a- butt if I tried to transport any animals. It’s all very political.”

Sammy’s giving him a blank look and Tim is pressing two fingers to his forehead, heaving a deep sigh.

“But never mind about that,” Jason says quickly. “What about a robot dog?”

He glances at the woman and she shoots him a thumbs-up.

“Robot dog?” Sammy asks dubiously.

“Yeah, they’re great,” Jason says. “Just as much fun as a regular dog except you don’t have to clean up after it, or remember to feed it.”

“...Okay.” Sammy says after a moment of deep concentration. He nods decisively. “Okay, that’ll work, Santa.”

“Great. Now, if you’ll look right over there, my lovely elf will take our picture.”

Sammy turns and beams, and Tim snaps a picture.

“It was great to see you, Sammy,” Jason says as he helps the boy slide off his lap. “Be good until next year!”

“Bye, Santa!” the boy shouts.

The woman mouths a thank you, and then they’re gone, lost in the crowd of holiday shoppers.

“Fucking hell,” Jason groans. He scratches at his fake beard.

Tim asks, “You need a break?” and Jason nods gratefully, so Tim tells the next kid in line that it’ll be a few minutes until Santa can see them, and he hooks up the red velvet rope.

Jason watches Tim move, the green skirt brushing against his knees. White tights and little elf boots that look uncomfortably similar to Dick’s old Robin shoes. His red cardigan has candy canes along the bottom. His hair is tucked behind pointy ears, and his hat has a bell hanging from the end.

He’s adorable.

If not for the psychological trauma it would surely cause these young children, Jason would pull Tim onto his lap right there and go to town on his lip gloss covered mouth.

“Did you get a good look at Franco?” Tim asks quietly, standing next to the big red and gold throne that looks far more comfortable than it actually is, as Jason’s sore everything can attest to.

“I got a good look at your ass,” Jason answers. “You should wear dresses more often.”

“I got a clear shot of him walking into Gotham City Novelties and Collectables.”

“Like, all the time. You should wear them all the time, Tim.” He stands, shaking out his stiff legs.

“He went in with a Macy’s bag and came out empty-handed.”

Jason cracks his back. “I’ll buy them for you.”

“I’m thinking shoppers come out of a store with more bags than when they went in, usually. Not the other way around,” Tim says, eyes narrowed at the brightly decorated tree to their right.

“Can I do that? Please?”

“So we’ve got confirmation that Gotham City Novelties and Collectables is the drop point.”

“Because seriously, you look amazing.”

“What we need to know now is if it’s just a drop point, or if they’re using it as a front, long-term.”

“It’s really not fair. You get to look this cute, and I’ve got on old man makeup and a fake belly.”

Tim’s attention finally turns to Jason. He grins. “I think you look good, for an old man.”

“And I think that’s Valentino making his way toward Gotham City Novelties and Collectables. Which, really, we need a nickname for, because I don’t want to have to say that every time. Anyway, big fish like that probably wouldn’t be checking in on a drop point.”

Tim does a little fist bump, eyes subtly tracking the mobster from across the food court. “All right! You know what this means?”

“That we get to go home now?”

Tim gasps, raises an overly-scandalised hand to his mouth. “You would leave these poor kids without a Santa?”

“I meant to say,” Jason corrects, “that I’m going to be stuck here all day, with an itchy beard and kids pummeling my internal organs?”

“Exactly.” Tim smiles. “But at least we don't have to do this again tomorrow. Now sit back down, break time’s over. And keep an eye on… GCNC.”

Jason groans but does as he’s told and pastes on a big, friendly smile as he prepares himself for the coming storm of tiny fists and shrill voices and cute as hell toothless gaps.

“Oh, and Santa?”

“Yes, my lovely elf?”

Tim leans in close and he smells like peppermint. It’s probably the lip gloss. (Or maybe the candy canes he’s been sneaking all morning.) Jason wants to taste it.

“If you’re good I’ll keep the outfit on when we get home.”

While Jason’s brain short circuits Tim unhooks the rope and the next kid comes running for Santa, full speed.

He takes a knee to the crotch, but Tim is beautiful and Jason gets to stare at him like this for the rest of the day, so it’s okay.

~

Tim doesn’t keep the outfit on.

Because they don’t get to go home.

By Dick’s demand, he and Jason came straight to the cave after leaving the mall (though they did take the time to take off the costumes).

“They’re definitely operating out of GCNC,” Tim reports, pulling up the photos he’d taken of Franco and then Valentino entering the shop. “So now we just need, you know, evidence. Gordon tends to want stuff like that.”

Damian asks, “GCNC?”

“Gotham City Novelties and Collectables. Keep up,” Jason says.

Dick nods seriously, arms crossed over his chest. He barely glances at the screen. “That’s great, but not why we’re all here.”

Alarms start to go off in Jason's head, something instinctual telling him that bad things are coming. “Oh, yeah?”

“We know,” Cassandra says.

Jason carefully doesn’t look at Tim. “Know what?”

“Give it up, Todd.” Damian crosses his arms, standing next to Dick like a half-size doll version of the man.

Jason spent too long talking about toys.

“We know,” Cassandra repeats, smiling at him and Tim with something viciously amused in her dark eyes. “About you two.”

Dick adds, “We want to see.”

What Jason wants is to panic, because if they’re talking about what he thinks they’re talking about, about he and Tim being together- if they know… Well. Jason really doesn’t want them to know.

He allows himself to look at Tim, expecting to see some indication that he’s freaking out like Jason is, but he’s calm, meeting Cass’s eyes evenly. Then he sighs, resigned.

“Fine.”

“Tim?” he asks, keeping most of the terror out of his voice.

“It’s fine, Jason. They already know, and they won’t give up.” He shoots Jason a crooked smile that makes Jason pause, because that’s Tim’s _trust me_ smile.

So. He does.

“Okay,” he says, not sure what he’s agreeing to. Other than trusting Tim.

That’s all he needs to know.

Tim turns back to the keyboard of the Bat Computer (Jason still gets a kick out of calling everything by its proper Bat Name) and taps a few keys, and then there they are, on the massive screen. Tim and Jason.

As Santa and an elf.

Dick whistles. “Damn, Jay, you went all out. Look at that gut!”

Cassandra smiles, wide and satisfied, and pats Tim’s head. “Cute,” she says.

Damian’s grin is smug and overly amused. “Todd, you look better with that makeup on. How sad.”

“Aw, kid, don’t be like that.” Jason grins and ruffles Damian’s hair, which gets his hand swatted away. “Did B not take you to see Santa yet?”

“Of course not!”

Jason asks, “You wanna tell _me_ what you want for Christmas?”

Tim laughs and Damian glares at both of them.

“Don’t be absurd,” he snaps.

“You’re so cute,” Dick says, inspecting the pictures. “Tim look at those ears! They look great.”

“Thanks, it took a while to get them blended in naturally.”

“Effort well spent,” says a voice behind them, and they all turn around to find Alfred, standing there like he’s been there the whole time. “Very good job on the disguises, sirs.”

Jason smiles. “Thank you, Al.”

“Is that your hair?” Dick points to Jason on the screen, at the bit of white hair spilling out over his forehead from under his massive, velvet hat.

“Yup. Figured I may as well use it.”

“A good choice,” Alfred commends.

“Although,” Jason muses, “now that I think about it, Tim, why didn’t you just get Bruce to play Santa? He’s already old.”

“Not that old,” comes Bruce’s voice as he enters the cave. “I can still hear you insulting me.”

Jason pointedly eyes the wrinkles around the man’s eyes and mouth. “All I’m saying, big guy, is that you wouldn’t have needed all the makeup that I did.”

Bruce ignores him, walks past to read the info on the big screen. “What’s your next move?”

“The kids really seemed to like us,” Jason answers. “I’m thinking we could take this up professionally.”

Jason expects Bruce to ignore him again, but instead he turns, quirks an eyebrow and says, “Somehow I don’t find that likely.”

“Why not?”

“Tim has no patience for children,” Bruce answers, and Jason looks at Tim, surprised.

“Really? I thought you did great with them earlier.”

Tim shrugs. “I can act for a while, but yeah, I wouldn’t want to do that all the time.”

And suddenly Jason is happy. Really, stupidly happy because he just learned something new about Tim, and he _loves_ learning new things about Tim.

“Scrooge,” Cass says, poking Tim’s side.

Tim protests, “It doesn’t make me evil! Besides, with my experience, can you blame me?” He crooks a thumb in Damian’s direction.

“Anyway,” Dick interjects just as Damian starts to puff up with indignation, “what is the plan?”

Everyone looks to Tim.

“Oh, that’s great,” Jason grouses. “Obviously Tim is the smart one that thinks up the plans? Fuck you all.”

Bruce raises that eyebrow again. “You have a plan?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Come on, Tim, we’re getting you a Christmas present.”

~

“This is such bullshit,” Jason hisses. “Not one piece of merch!”

Tim squeezes past, careful not to knock anything from the shelves. There’s still a bit of peppermint lip gloss sticking to his lips, and Jason can smell it as he passes. “Keep it down, sweet pea.”

“And meanwhile B gets half the store!”

“It doesn’t really matter. It’s not like this is an official Bat Incorporated store anyway.”

“You’d be just as mad, okay, so stuff it.” Jason rearranges two Batman figurines so that they’re… well. Doing something not suitable for minors. “Wait, do we have those? Are there official Bat memorabilia shops? Because if there are, B’s vanity is really out of control.”

“No, there aren’t. He refused to sanction it,” he says bitterly.

Jason pauses, the dolls in mid-hump. “It was _your_ idea?”

“They make it all anyway,” Tim explains, “so why not capitalise on it? Besides, then I could get my stuff at a discount.”

“What stuff?”

“My Red Robin stuff. You know, the laptop stickers, my headphones with the Rs on them...”

Jason picks up the movements again, switching it up with new and creative positions. “Now I’m starting to worry about _your_ vanity. Should I be doing this with some Red Robin dolls instead?”

Tim watches the plastic Batmans getting friendly with each other. “Stop that,” he says, reaching for the figurines.

Jason dodges. “It’s his dream come true, you know it is.”

“I do _not_ want to think about that,” Tim whines. Shudders.

“Oh come on, it’s funny!”

“It is,” says a voice behind them, and Jason glances over at Valentino. Little Brother Valentino, not Big Fish Valentino. He’s smiling, watching Jason play with the collectibles.

“See?” Jason cocks his head at Little Brother and gives Tim a look. “Someone appreciates my humor.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “Glad you found a friend.” He walks away, making a beeline to the aisle of Red Robin merch.

A whole fucking aisle.

Not that Tim doesn’t deserve it, but. Jason is feeling resentful.

He turns to Valentino. “You see it though, right? The Bat would totally do himself if he could.”

“With all that tech he has, he probably built himself a clone robot or something.”

Jason laughs, not even needing to force it. He’s gonna tell that one to Tim later. “Fuck man, you’re right.”

Valentino checks his watch. “You know, we’re going to be closing up in about ten minutes.”

“Oh, this is your place?”

“Mine and my brother’s, yeah.”

Jason drops his hands and adopts a sheepish smile. “Am I in trouble for messing with the stuff?”

The man grins. “Not unless you broke anything.”

“No, no, I’m always careful. Promise.”

“Glad to hear it. Is there anything I can help you find?”

“No,” Jason sighs, wearily. “I’m not looking for me, we’re here for him.” He waves in the direction of Tim’s dark hair peeking over the top of a rack. “He’s picking out his Christmas present.”

Little Brother raises his eyebrow. “He’s getting it himself?”

“I try to be romantic,” Jason shrugs, “but he’s so picky, and if I try to surprise him it doesn’t end well for anyone.”

“Ah, I understand. My brother is the same way. Has to be in total control of everything.”

“Exactly. It’s rough, huh?”

“Sure is,” Valentino agrees. He checks his watch again.

“So I’ve got a question.”

“Shoot.”

Jason asks with fake calm, “Where’s the Red Hood merch?”

“Hm. Fan of his?”

“I was just curious.” Jason glances around the store. “I didn’t see any.”

“Well we don’t have much of a demand for it,” Valentino answers.

“Really?”

“Hardly ever.”

“That’s weird.”

“Is it?”

“He seems pretty cool to me,” Jason says.

Valentino leans in a bit. “Personally, I agree, but unfortunately it just doesn’t sell, so.”

“I found what I want,” Tim announces, walking up with a set of Red Robin bedding clutched against his chest.

“Really?” Jason asks. “That?”

“Yes,” Tim answers firmly.

“Sheets?”

“It has matching pillowcases and duvet.”

“...Well. All right then.”

Valentino smiles and motions toward the front of the shop. “I’ll ring you up at the counter.”

Jason pays for the bedclothes while Tim watches, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and Jason knows that’s not even acting. Tim really is that excited for it.

Valentino waves them goodbye as they leave the store and he locks the door behind them, flips the sign to _closed_.

Jason asks, “Did you get everything in place?”

“Yup.” Tim pops the _p_.

“It’s almost a shame,” Jason says. “I liked him.”

“He’s a mob boss, Jay.”

“Assistant boss. And a very nice one that appreciates how funny I am.”

“Well, maybe you can be pen pals after we get him sent to prison.”

“I think I’d like that,” Jason muses. “We can talk about how cool I am. Now!” He claps his hands together eagerly. “For phase two of my awesome plan!”

~

Phase two involves a lot of sitting around watching the feed from the cameras that Tim placed around GCNC. They’re hoping to catch the Valentinos discussing their nefarious plans, but so far the only business the brothers have conducted is legitimate.

It’s boring.

And the last time Jason slept was before he took down that smuggling ring in Panama. He’d finished up the job and jumped on the next flight home, then rushed over to Tim’s and they’ve been working this case every moment since. Jason is fucking tired. So he doesn’t feel too badly when he drifts off to sleep for a couple of hours.

When he wakes, there’s a blanket draped over him. It could have been left by Alfred, or Tim, or maybe even Cassandra, but he decides to believe it was Tim, and he smiles.

Tim is reclining in the high-backed office chair next to him, feet propped up on the console. There’s a fruit roll-up wrapped around his finger, and Jason watches as he sucks it into his mouth, red lips sliding over the snack.

Jason must make some sort of noise, because Tim’s eyes dart over. When he sees Jason is awake, and watching him, Tim grins around his finger and pulls it out slowly.

“Morning, sunshine.”

Jason’s stuck between drooling over the sight and glaring at Tim because the bastard is teasing him here, in the cave, where Jason can’t do a damn thing about it. And after so many weeks of being apart, and then the past two days of not being able to touch what’s _right there_ … Jason growls and forces himself to look away. He watches the feed, Big Fish and Little Brother Valentino sitting in their office, talking about a shipment of Black Bat plush dolls.

“Do we have anything to eat?” Jason asks.

Tim offers his finger.

Jason commits to that glare.

“What?” Tim asks innocently. “I’m willing to share.”

Jason pulls the blanket away and drapes it over the back of his chair. “I’ll be right back.”

“Will you make me some popcorn while you’re at it?”

As he passes Jason slaps the back of Tim’s head, but he does end up making a big bowl of popcorn that they share when he comes down from the kitchen. Tim eats most of it though, while Jason balances a plate on his lap with a turkey sandwich.

Tim eyes the sandwich.

“No,” Jason says, and takes a bite. “I made you popcorn, back off.”

Tim relaxes, and contents himself with the popcorn. After he finishes that, he pulls out another fruit roll-up from somewhere, and Jason carefully doesn’t glance in his direction. Much.

After a while he shifts, his chair creaking as he tries to get more comfortable. He thinks Bruce should build a home theatre just for watching surveillance tapes. Maybe he’ll bring it up at the next family meeting.

Jason asks, “Why didn’t you just get Bruce to be Santa? Or Dick? Or literally anyone that wasn’t coming straight off a plane from Panama at the last minute.”

Tim nibbles on the fruit roll-up. “You don’t want to work with me?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“So you’re having fun?”

“Apart from all the ways this case has sucked, yes I’m having a grand time.”

Tim narrows his eyes, scrutinising Jason like he’s trying to figure how much of that was sarcasm. Jason gives him a break and says, “I really don’t mind it. I like working with you, and-” he glances around, to make sure there’s no one nearby to overhear, “and I loved watching you in the elf outfit all day.”

Tim grins.

“But I’m still wondering why it had to be me.”

Tim looks away, and his smile slips.

“And,” Jason says, “I kind of feel like you’ve been making it so that we aren’t alone together. On purpose.”

“It’s the case,” Tim says to his lap. “Very important and time-sensitive case.”

“Is it though?”

“Of course.”

“It’s just… We could have waited a day to start the surveillance. Hell, an even hour. We could have told Dick to wait for the report. We didn’t have to set up the cameras right away, and we don’t have to be watching the feed live right now; it’s being recorded.”

Tim chews on the remainder of his snack. Swallows.

Jason waits.

Tim sighs.

“Well when you say it like that...”

“So?” Jason asks, and he tries not to sound resentful. “What’s up? Why don’t you want to be alone with me?”

“We’re alone right now.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

Tim glances around. “We shouldn’t talk about this here.”

“Then let’s go home,” Jason says.

“But,” Tim protests, “the Valentinos...”

“Are boring as hell, and we can watch it tomorrow.”

“...Yeah. Okay,” Tim finally says, but he looks like he’s just eaten something awful, rather than his favorite food.

~

The moment the apartment door is shut, Jason wants to wrap his arms around Tim from behind. He wants rest his chin on Tim’s head. Breathe in the smell of Tim’s hair.

He doesn’t. Because, for some reason, Tim has been avoiding letting Jason do just that.

“Talk to me, baby bird.”

Tim plops onto the couch.

Jason stays standing.

“The Joker broke out of Arkham,” Tim says.

“When?” Jason chokes out the question, his throat going tight and every part of him suddenly on full alert, the way it happens any time he hears that name.

“Nine days ago.”

“What happened?”

“We caught him,” Tim answers quickly. “He didn’t have a chance to do much, we don’t think. We took care of it.”

“While I was gone.”

Tim nods.

“Because Dick sent me on a mission.”

Tim nods again.

“Tim. Is that _why_ I was gone? Because the Joker broke out?”

“Might be.”

“So he...” Jason pushes a hand through his hair. He walks across the living room, and back. Again. “He thought, what? That I wouldn’t be able to handle it?”

“We just thought you shouldn’t have to, Jay.”

“ _We_? You, too?”

“Yes.”

Jason asks, “The whole family? You all decided I couldn’t keep myself together, and lied to me, and shipped me off to do some busy work?”

“It wasn’t busy work. That was important, what you did.”

“That’s really not the part you should be trying to defend, sweetheart.”

Tim stands then, and meets Jason’s eyes. “I’ll defend all of it. I still think it was the right thing to do.”

“It wasn’t your call!” Jason pauses, takes a breath. He doesn’t want to yell. More calmly he says, “It’s not yours or Dick’s or even Bruce’s decision whether I should be involved in a case. That’s _my_ decision. I’m an adult, I’m my own responsibility, and if I want to take myself away from something- or _not_ take myself away, that's _my_ prerogative.”

“We just thought it would be better if you didn’t have to, okay? It’s so painful for you, even to hear his name, and I wanted… I wanted to protect you from him. I guess. We all did.”

Part of Jason wants to say, _Too late for that_. But that’s cruel, and he made the decision a long time ago to never be cruel to Tim. Not again.

He would probably say it to Bruce, if he were here.

“So, if y’all got him locked away again, what’s going on now? Why did you push me onto this Valentino case?”

“They needed more time,” Tim says. “To clean up all the evidence that it happened.”

“So I wouldn’t ever find out.”

“Yeah.”

“And you were the distraction.”

“Well. Not _me_ exactly. The case. But yeah.”

Jason raises both eyebrows. “Maybe Dick didn’t plan for it to be you, but it worked out that way.”

Tim smiles, a little.

“If you were supposed to be distracting me anyway,” Jason asks, “why not do it the fun way?”

“I. Um.” Tim sighs, resigned. Then he tugs off his shirt.

Jason’s attention zeros in on the bandage on Tim’s shoulder.

“What happened?”

“He shot me,” Tim says. “The Joker.”

Jason looks at the wound, and hears the words, and he is _furious_.

He always hates it when Tim gets hurt, and he always hates it when the Joker hurts anybody, but this. This is _the Joker hurting Tim_.

This is why they should have killed that maniac by now. A long time ago.

This is why Jason sometimes fears himself, because of what he’s feeling right now. Like he would do anything, destroy the whole city, just to get to him and finish it. Because he wants it all to just be over, to never have to worry about any of it again, but more so because it’s _Tim_ that the Joker hurt, scarred, _ruined_.

No. Not ruined. Tim never could be.

And sometimes he believes Tim and starts to think, maybe he wasn’t ruined either.

But not right now. In this moment he feels every scar, every hit he took. He feels the smoke in his lungs and the fire around him. Fire, licking at his legs and he wants it, wants to use it, wants to burn that sick fuck to ashes.

“Jason.”

Tim’s voice comes from far away, but it’s cool and sweet and good, and Jason latches on to it. Pulls himself out of the pit and blinks at Tim, standing there in front of him.

“Hey,” Tim says softly, clutching at Jason’s shoulders. “Are you with me?”

“Yeah.” Jason’s voice is a cracked, pathetic thing. He swallows. “Yeah, I’m here.”

Tim whispers, “This, Jay. This is why we didn’t want you to be there.”

Jason rests his hands over Tim’s, holds on tight to feel that Tim is there. He’s warm and strong and he’s right there. “I should have been though. I could have stopped him from hurting you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. I _would_ have,” Jason insists. “I just want to protect you, honey.”

“So do I,” Tim answers, sliding his fingers between Jason’s. His eyes are so bright. Blue. Loving. “That’s why we sent you away.”

“But that’s not-”

“I know.” Tim sighs. “I know. That’s not our call. I get it. But please, let me do this? Let us. Let Bruce protect you. Let Dick keep you safe. Let me do whatever I can for you, now that I can.”

He pulls Jason down so their foreheads are touching, lets go to dig his fingers into Jason’s hair. Tim says, “Please, Jason. Just against him. We need this.”

Jason shuts his eyes as his hands fall to Tim’s back. He feels the soft skin and hard muscle. The bumps of his spine. The gauze on the back of his shoulder that tells him the bullet went clean through. He rubs the medical tape lightly.

“You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Jason asks, suddenly trying to remember all the ways he’s touched Tim in the last two days, not knowing about the injury.

Tim smiles. “No.”

“When I threw you on the bed?”

“You didn’t throw me,” Tim says, and his huff of amusement is warm on Jason’s face.

“It was close, I think.”

Tim pulls away and rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. “I’m fine.”

“Fine,” Jason echoes, standing straight again.

“And you are, too.”

Jason nods. “We’re both fine.”

Tim leans up on his toes to kiss Jason, light and sweet. He asks, “What do you need?”

“Patrol,” Jason answers, because he is fine, but he’s still angry and he feels injustice sitting between his shoulder blades, weighing him down. He needs to do something, hit something. Fly.

“Okay. That sounds good.”

“And then.”

“Yeah?”

Jason wraps himself around Tim as much as he can, mindful of the hole in his chest. “And then I want to come home and fall asleep with you next to me.”

“That sounds good too.” Tim smiles into Jason’s neck. “And maybe we’ll bring out the elf dress again.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic really kicked my butt, so I'd love to hear what you think!!


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